Creating a Villain
by Mignun
Summary: An insight on why Lash is the way he is. It all started in Elementary school with a bully...


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Sky High.  
**Author's Note:** An attempt to get rid of my writer's block, here is a short story as to why Lash is a bully.

* * *

**Elementary School**

"Get out of the way, freak!" Billy Jorgen shouted in my ear and pushed me out of the way. I stumbled into an opened door, the handle scraping my elbow.

"Oww," I mumbled, rubbing my soon to be bruised elbow. Billy smirked and continued walking with his two friends. I stood there, pushing up my striped sleeve to see the damage he did. He always did that; pushing me into doors, making me trip into desks, putting my head down a toilet…Billy Jorgen did it all to make my life suck.

"Move it," a fourth grader demanded, and he shoved me into the door when I wouldn't move. My head hit the stupid door, and I hoped that I wouldn't get a bump there. I don't need Mom complaining about the bullies on the first day.

I continued making my way to my classroom. Today was the first day of third grade, but I wasn't excited. How could I be excited when everyone hated me? What just happened is a good example of that.

Why are they such jerks? I'm a 'soon to be Super' as my Principal stated. Mr. Goodman wasn't all that good. No, I swear his name should be Mr. Badman, because he never helped me once since my _accident_last year. Aren't old people supposed to help kids not get picked on by whale-sized bullies?

"You're slowing us down, Stretch!" someone said with a quick laugh. I turned around to see a girl, surrounded by her friends, staring at me. She titled her head. "Are you stupid too? Or are you too high and mighty to hurry it up?"

The rest of her friends giggled while I turned back around with my head slumped. Whoever thought of that saying should be tied up. Kids aren't cruel sometimes. Kids are cruel all the time…

* * *

Good. It's playtime. That meant I could color in my corner while everyone else was in the middle of the classroom. Ms. Mays would watch everyone to make sure that they wouldn't come over to bug me. I could be by myself for a good twenty minutes without someone making fun of me. Nope, I could color all I want without stupid people bothering me.

"_Should the Commander's cape be purple and orange or pink and green? Red and blue are stupid. Nah, I'll just make it all black, like Batman! Da na na na na na na na na na na na na na…is there one more 'na' before I say Batman?" _I shook my head, realizing that I sounded stupid. Everyone knows how many times to say it. Fourteen, duh. Or is it thirteen…

"_Coloring, coloring. Do the color,_" I sang to myself. Instead of being a Super, I should become a singer instead. They make better money, and they still get the fame.

Someone ran past me and kicked the crayon I was going to use. I didn't feel like getting up, so I decided to do what I do best. I extended my arm until it was hovering over the crayon. That's why no one liked me. Apparently stretching any body part is considered freaky and uncool. How could it be when it can get me nearly everything I want without getting up?

"Ms. Mays! He's using his powers!" one of my classmates shouted and pointed to me. I looked up and recoiled my arm without the stupid crayon. Ms. Mays looked mad, but she gave Joey the 'I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that' look.

"Joey, what did I tell you about tattling?" she asked, and I couldn't help but smirk. He opened his mouth, but she was ready to say something else. "No buts."

"He used his powers though!"

"I didn't see him using them," she replied, going back to whatever she was reading. Joey glared at me, and I stuck my tongue at him. I didn't get caught, and that's all that matters.

"You better watch it, Lash. I'm going to get you in trouble one day," he warned, and I rolled my eyes. Four-eyes was going to get _me _in trouble? I could easily swipe his glasses and put it in someone else's pockets if I could.

* * *

My head's in a toilet, and stupid Billy's hovering over me, pushing the handle down. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. Yup, the rumors about janitors not cleaning anything is true. Yuck.

"Had enough?" he taunted, and I shook my head. Even if I said yes, he would still continue doing it. Saying no meant that he would still continue doing it. I'm used to lose-lose situations.

"Hurry up, Billy. We're going to miss the bus," one of his friends said, and the toilet water going into my nose stopped. I heard their footsteps leave the bathroom, and I was alone with my head still in the bowl. I picked it up, trying not to puke.

"Look at the new toilet bowl!" a fourth grade commented when I exited the bathroom. Everyone started to laugh, even Mr. Goodman himself. I felt my face grow read. A new nickname thanks to Billy, what a good start for the new school year.


End file.
